


Hold The Phone!

by Fluffypanda



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cell Phones, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fix-It of Sorts, Improvised Sex Toys, M/M, Mpreg, Object Insertion, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Technopathy, unsafe phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 19:04:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20644157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/pseuds/Fluffypanda
Summary: In which Tony uses the flip phone not for its intended purpose and faces the consequences





	Hold The Phone!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peppypear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppypear/gifts), [MountainRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MountainRose/gifts).

> I blame discord
> 
> Thanks to BladeoftheNebula for being my alpha reader!

“Cancel anything you got on the schedule for me tomorrow, FRIDAY. After the shit show Ross pulled me into, I deserve a day off.” Tony stumbles into a cold and empty bed exhausted and maybe a little drunk..

[Shall I inform Miss Potts you’ll be missing the quarterly review as well then, Boss?]

“Mmmm, yeah,” Tony mumbles and buries his face in his pillow. It’s scarily easy to put off meeting Pepper again, but the distance between them grew to the point that actually seeing her would be worse.

And since Steve ran off with most of the team (including Vision on a part-time basis) and Rhodey is using his recovery to spend more time with his family, that just leaves Tony with himself for company. He’s fine with that; he doesn’t really have the right to complain, does he? 

Tony rolls over, trying to ignore how much he aches to be touched. Closing his eyes, Tony tries to drift off, but all he can think about is how quiet it is. Despite being completely wrung out, he just can’t settle down.

He runs his hands down his chest and heat begins to pool in his belly. That was easier to cope with, everyone needed to let off some steam every once in a while and well, there is a reason he has a well-stocked nightstand.

He shimmies off his pants and gets started with just a bottle of lube. It’s not enough, but it’s a start. He ramps things up with a few fingers and -- he wants more. He reaches back to the nightstand, but instead of the toy he is looking for, his hand lands on The Phone. His consolation prize.

It came with an empty promise that Steve would be there if Tony needs him, but where is he now?

An idea blossomed in his head and he tightened his grip around the stupid little hunk of plastic that was one of his last connections to Steve. He almost drops it in his slippery hands, but he holds on to it with a small amount of vindictiveness and, though he wouldn’t admit it, desperation.

It occurs to him he should probably put a condom on it, it’d be cleaner, but he needs this too badly to fumble around for them. 

A moan works its way out of his throat as he slides it in, taking in the novelty of its shape. He bites his lip, grinning at the joke. It doesn’t take long to figure out how to make it work and eventually he falls asleep somewhat satisfied and with the phone still in hand.

** _@~@_ **

Tony blinks down at the group of little cellphones nestled around him. They are sleek high-tech models in red and gold, unlike anything on the market. Tony might just be imagining it, but he thinks something about their lines hints at a bit of flip phone in their history.

_Why_ he thinks that isn’t really something he wants to consider right now. Instead he laughs until tears form at the corner of his eyes.

But at the back of his mind there is a persistent whine, and somehow Tony just knows the little phones are hungry for a charge.

@~@

When the call finally comes, Steve’s a little occupied. He hears it ringing in the pouch on his belt, and briefly considers picking up anyway, but the wall of muscle in front of him doesn’t give him much choice. He misses the call, but by the time he’s done the human traffickers are also missing some teeth, so maybe it evens out.

Or at least he thinks so, until he listens to the voicemail.

“At least pay me child support, you bastard.” The voice sounds exhausted, like it’s been days since the owner had last seen sleep.

Steve listens to the message three more times, but it doesn’t make any more sense than the first time he heard it. However, one thing was clear: Tony needs his help.

@~@

Steve doesn’t know what he is going to find when he sneaks into the compound, but the situation is pretty far from what he expected. Which is to say he finds nothing wrong.

Tony’s asleep on the couch with five little red and gold devices spread across his stomach. Various microchips and bits of metal are scattered across the nearby table like Tony had been working on something before falling asleep. All in all, it seems...normal.

Steve picks up one of the devices, which looks kind of like a cellphone, and is rewarded with a sense of sleepy-contentedness that he immediately recognizes as not his own. He immediately drops it.

“What the hell!?” Tony yells, jerking awake because Steve, like an idiot, just threw a cell phone at him.

“Tony,” Steve starts, but he doesn’t really know where to go from there. Is Tony experimenting with some strange new empathic tech?

Tony looks around at the phones, which now all had brightly lit screens. “Come on, I just got them all to sleep!”

“What’s going on?”

“My life became an episode of _ I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant With Cellphones _! Nothing makes any sense any more!” Tony begins stroking the phones’ touch screens and making shushing noises. Glaring, he shoves a couple of them at Steve. “You might as well help.”

Tired-cranky-lagginess fills Steve’s head and he quickly copies what Tony is doing even though the whole thing seems kind of insane. Eventually the phones’ lights dim and they radiate a calm-sleepiness. 

“What are you doing here, Rogers?”

Steve blinks. “You called?” he says a little uncertainly. 

“I called--? shit,” Tony says, pressing his hands over his eyes. “I actually--?”

“You said something about child support?” Steve adds, feeling completely out of his depth. 

Tony doesn’t answer. 

Steve asks, “Does that mean I should get data plans for them?”

That at least draws a reaction from Tony. 

“That might not be a bad idea, at least when they’re older and have a bit more processing power. They’ve been growing at about a few dozen megahertz a day.”

Steve nods like that makes sense. Actually having Tony in front of him is starting to sink in and he’s reminded how much he misses Tony.

“What can I do to help?”

@~@

“You can start by watching them while I go get cleaned up.”

Tony scoops up the phones in his arms and isn’t able to resist soaking in their love and happy noises. It isn’t long before their little melodic beeps take on a tone of curiosity and a nagging question Tony already knows the answer to forms in the back of his mind. “Him? Well, that’s your--” 

Tony stops as it dawns on him that while he’d been thinking of Steve as their father, all he actually did was send Tony a perfectly ordinary, if annoyingly outdated, cell phone. (Tony checked, he really checked in every way he knew how, and he never found a single thing to indicate it was capable of impregnating people with tech babies or even properly connecting to the internet. ( He was still watching it though, in case it made any suspicious moves. )) 

Steve watches Tony expectantly. “I’m their what?”

It is a good question. Will Steve even be around long enough to be anything to them? He ran over at the first sign something was out of the ordinary, but what’s to stop him from going back to lead his little band of merry men (and women) now that it was clear no one was in danger? 

“Steve,” Tony finally says, shoving his <strike>children</strike> phones into Steve’s hands. “You’re their Steve.”

“Tony, why were you calling _ me _about child support? What happened?”

Tony runs. He makes FRIDAY tell Steve where the phones came from while Tony is in the shower. He will have a hard enough time looking Steve in the eye afterward as it is, he doesn’t think he will survive it if he actually has to say the words himself.

When Tony returns, fresh and clean and probably more than an hour after he should have, he finds Steve tearing apart the living room. 

“Tony’s gonna kill me if he finds out I lost the kids in the couch cushions."

“You what!?”

Steve jumps up, looking guilty. “No! Look, it’s fine!” He stretches over to snatch one of the phones from underneath the armchair before setting it next to the others on the coffee table. 

“You took your eyes off of them didn’t you?”

“It was only for a second! I didn’t think they could go anywhere!”

Tony laughs. “You’d be surprised how far they can get without legs. They really figured out the mobile part of mobile phone.”

“That...sounds like a handful.”

Tony shrugged. “The trials of being a single parent.”

“You shouldn’t be doing this alone. This is as weird as all hell, but I want to be here for them, for you,” Steve says, taking hold of Tony’s hands.

“Ross isn’t entirely stupid, the Accords--”

“I don’t give a damn about Ross or the Accords. We can find a way to make it work.” Steve pauses, looking stuck as he appears to consider something. “...I’ll do what you want. If you don’t want to see me--”

“Stay.” The word is out before Tony can stop it, but he can’t force himself to take it back either. “I want you to stay.”


End file.
